


rabbit & lion

by cloudsovercalifornia



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Bonding, M/M, Public Sex, magnet Richard, protective Erlich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 01:36:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12422331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsovercalifornia/pseuds/cloudsovercalifornia
Summary: Erlich drags Richard to a gay bar. He spends most of the night gatekeeping.





	rabbit & lion

**Author's Note:**

> yo heads up there is a one-time use of a gay slur in this fic

It’s a Friday night in the incubator. Richard is laid out on the couch, listening to music and doing some research, when Erlich walks up to him and plucks his headphones off his head.

“Hey!” Richard protests.

“We are going out about town tonight, you and I. Lyft will be here in fifteen minutes.” At the sound of Richard’s music still playing through the headphones, Erlich makes a face. “What sort of regrettable material are you shooting into your own ear holes?”

Richard grabs his headphones back. “ _You_ are going out tonight. _I_ am going to stay right here. I don’t have any mental energy reserved for socialization. Why don’t you make those two go with you?” He gestures in the direction of Dinesh and Gilfoyle, who are busy trying to destroy each other in virtual combat.

“Please,” Erlich says. “I am not interested in rolling with wheels number one and two.”

“Heard that,” Dinesh calls from his seat. 

“Richard, tonight we embark on a quest,” Erlich says. “A quest to a magical land, known to mortals as The Fortress.”

Dinesh pipes up, “Isn’t that a gay bar?”

“You would know,” Gilfoyle snipes, and likewise snipes Dinesh in the game.

“See, that’s not even an insult,” Dinesh replies as he’s waiting to respawn. “You’re not even trying.”

“You are correct,” Erlich says. “It is indeed a gay bar. You see-”

“I can’t go back there - I mean, I can’t go there,” Richard cuts in, eyes wide. 

To his surprise, Erlich doesn’t pry. “I understand. We’ll settle for another place. How about Rabbit & Lion? It’s new.”

Dinesh throws a grenade at Gilfoyle. “Also a gay bar.”

Richard purses his lips. It doesn’t really matter what he says - Erlich will steamroll him regardless. “Fine. I’ll go change.”

After a couple of minutes, Richard emerges from his room. “Okay. I’m ready.” He is wearing three shirts, a sweater, a jacket, two pairs of pants, two pairs of socks, and baseball cap.

“Jesus Christ, Richard, why?” Erlich says. “We’re not going to go play ball in Siberia.”

“I have my reasons,” Richard insists. 

“I cannot be seen in the company of a human seven-layer burrito.” Erlich points at Richard’s room. “Get back in there and remove some garments.” 

Richard feels his inner brat flaring up as he trudges back to his room. If Erlich wants his layers off - well, Erlich will get his desire. 

“Alright. Now can we go?” Richard stands before Erlich in a thin white tank top and baby blue shorts that are dangerously above the knee.

Erlich passes a hand over his face. “Don’t be a slut, Richard. Go put on some actual clothes.”

Richard returns to his room, grumbling the whole way. He makes a show of slamming through his dresser drawers. After he’s done, he stomps back out dressed in one shirt, one jacket, one pair of jeans, and one pair of socks.

“I’m not changing again,” he says.

Erlich looks Richard up and down. “An utterly unremarkable getup, but I’ll accept it.”

* * *

By the time they arrive, the bar is packed, and all of the bar seats are occupied. A mumble rap song is blasting through the speakers. Richard suggests that they go home and call it a night, but Erlich pushes his way into the bar. 

“Good evening,” he says. “I’ll take an old fashioned. And my friend here-"

The bartender slaps a drink down in front of Richard.

“That was fast,” Richard says, and Erlich gives him a funny look.

“Whiskey and rye,” the bartender points across the bar, “from the guy in the red beanie.” He gets started on Erlich’s old fashioned.

“Thanks,” Richard says.

As Richard takes the drink, two seats open up at the bar. Erlich reserves them in amazement.

“Do you have a pot of gold hidden up your ass, or what?” he says.

Richard shrugs. “Let’s go home soon.”

“We just got here. Don’t be a shrinking daisy.” Erlich grabs the old fashioned that the bartender slides over to him.

“Shrinking violet,” Richard corrects him, which Erlich ignores.

Red beanie man walks up to Richard. “Hey,” he tries.

“Piss off,” Erlich says. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” Red beanie man turns right back around.

The bartender slaps another drink in front of Richard.

“Gin and tonic,“ he points across the bar, “from the guy with the long hair.”

“What the hell is happening...” Erlich says slowly.

Richard sips his whiskey and rye. “Like I said… let’s go home soon.”

Erlich accompanies Richard to the restroom out of concern for his safety. Five more drinks and seven more guys later, Erlich is fed up.

“Get the fuck out of my sight, you Birkenstocks wearing, raspberry mojito guzzling, male Hillary Clinton looking ass motherfucker.” He sends off the last guy.

Richard doesn’t say anything; he’s too busy working on his liquid assembly line.

“Whoa there,” Erlich says. “Pace yourself, man.”

“Can’t.” Richard knocks back a shot of vodka. “They were free. I feel bad if I don’t drink them.” He pauses, coughing. “I told you to have some.”

“I will take no part in your semen loot,” he sniffs. “Figures you’d drag me here. Nice place to stroke your own ego.”

Richard splutters into his Moscow mule. “God damn it, Erlich. This is _your_ fault.”

Erlich glares at him in return. “I wasn’t gonna ask, but I deserve an explanation now. What happened at The Fortress?”

Richard hedges. “Well, it was late, and I was drunk, and I really hadn’t gotten laid in a while. Like, a-”

“Get to the point.”

“I slept with the bartender.” Richard sighs. “I didn’t want to risk running into him.”

Erlich looks at him frankly. “We are not so different creatures, you and I. God knows I have been banned from many various establishments, or cannot in good taste return to them.”

Richard quirks his lips in a smile. “I guess.” He hops off the stool. “Be right back. I have to take another piss.” He stops Erlich from getting up. “Don’t chaperone me, seriously. I’ll be fine.”

“You have a diminutive bladder,” Erlich calls to him as he walks away. “Should get that checked out.”

* * *

Richard returns from the restroom and walks straight past Erlich through the front door. After a moment, Erlich follows him outside and around back. It’s dark out, but the alley is dimly cast in leftover street light. Richard is hiding with a cigarette between his lips and a lighter at the ready.

Erlich charges him and swats the cigarette onto the ground. “Don’t put useless things in your mouth, Richard.”

“Dude, what the fuck?” He stares wistfully at the fallen cigarette. It was a menthol, too.

“I’m doing you a favor. Cigarettes don’t even get you high; therefore, they are a waste of lung space. Where did you even get it?”

“I was waiting for the restroom when this guy came up to me and was like, ‘Want a fag?’ And I was like, ‘What?’ But then he gave me an actual cigarette. And then when I came out of the restroom, some other guy slapped my ass. But he felt bad after that, so he apologized and gave me a lighter.”

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this,” Erlich says, leaving Richard confused. 

Richard folds his arms. “Look, I don’t need you to always come to my rescue. Like what you were doing in there. You were gatekeeping my dick.”

“You’re _welcome._ The nerve of those proletariat.” Erlich shakes his head. “I may be drunk, and you may be drunk, but my drunk decisions will always be superior to your drunk decisions.”

“Erlich, if I want to take a guy to the alley and fuck him, that’s my right,” Richard says, and then he bites his lip to keep any more stupid phrases from coming out.

Something snaps inside Erlich, and he advances on Richard, who retreats until his back touches the wall. Erlich braces his arm against the wall and takes Richard’s jaw in his other hand. Richard fixates his gaze on Erlich’s lips. His body heat is radiating off, surrounding Richard in the scents of pine and the blackberry shisha he split out in the palapa earlier that day. 

“You said something about fucking a guy in an alley?” Erlich growls.

Richard’s ears flush red. “Um. That was hypothetical. And-and if I were to do something like that, it would be in a nicer alley. This one is gross. Really gross.”

Erlich backs off, taking his body heat with him. “Alright then. Another time, another alley.”

Richard severely wishes he had jacked off in the morning when he had the chance, because now his traitorous dick is convinced this is the best idea ever. “Wait,” he says. “I changed my mind. I-I do want to.”

Erlich grins. “Good.” 

He’s back on Richard, kissing him with unexpected finesse, and Richard wonders if he kisses women the same way. When Erlich pulls away, Richard’s chin is pink where his beard had rubbed against it. Erlich unbuttons Richard’s jeans and takes his cock in his hand. There’s a weird thrill in having his dick exposed to public air, and he bites back a moan as Erlich starts stroking him.

“Let it out, baby. I want to hear you.” Erlich gets down on his knees and doesn’t dither around, just takes Richard’s cock straight in his mouth, enveloping him in smooth, warm friction.

“Holy fuck,” Richard gasps. He has his palms pressed against the wall; the grit’s digging into his skin. Erlich’s curly hair bobs up and down, and it occurs to Richard that he’s never touched the man’s hair even though he is sucking him off. 

Erlich pops Richard’s cock out of his mouth to say, “Don’t touch my hair,” before returning to his work. 

“Wasn’t gonna,” Richard lies with minimal coherence. 

Erlich takes Richard deeper in his throat until his facial hair is tickling Richard’s skin. Richard moans again, unrestrained this time. Erlich is undoing him bit by bit.

“Fuck, Erlich,” Richard pants. “I’m going to come...”

Erlich chuckles, low in his throat, and Richard _feels_ the vibrations. The orgasm shudders through him, hot and sharp, wiping his brain clean of all cached data. And then, in the wake of clarity, he’s hit by a wave of sadness, leaving him to question his life choices. Erlich stands up and spits off to the side. Richard tries not to look at the fallen glob as he buttons up his pants. 

“You okay?” Erlich wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Yeah. Cummer’s remorse. I always feel guilty after.”

“Can’t relate.” Erlich gestures to the bulge in his pants and says, “So, are you a give-and-take kinda guy, or a take-and-take kinda guy?”

Richard fumbles at Erlich’s pants until he frees Erlich’s cock. He kneels down and returns the favor. There’s something deeply gratifying about the raspy noises and muttered encouragement escaping from Erlich’s lips, and Richard thinks he could go for another round, maybe back at home after Dinesh and Gilfoyle have fucked off to bed. 

Erlich comes down Richard’s throat with a groan. Richard waits for the last pulse of Erlich’s cock before releasing him. Then, he gets back on his feet and adds his cum-spit to the pavement. They have officially made the alley grosser. 

Erlich does up his pants. “Just so you know, I’ve never engaged in sex acts with any of my incubees before. That’s not the kind of business I’m running.”

“Whatever you say, pimp daddy,” Richard jokes. The delivery is cringeworthy, but Erlich grins anyway.


End file.
